BOOKS.

"A. K. H. B.'s " FRESH REMINISCENCES.* THERE are several points of resemblance between the second volume of these readable recollections and the first ; there are also some points of dissimilarity. Like the first, it bubbles

over with self-satisfaction expressed in snippety and often slovenly sentences, is a storehouse of good stories mostly of clergymen, and reflects the life of the most picturesque of all Scotch seaside resorts. But it is more decidedly Anglican than its predecessor, mainly because its author would appear to have spent very many of his holidays during the last quarter of a century in England, and more especially at the residence of his friend, Bishop Thorold. These circumstances have given this volume a tone of gravity and an accent of pathos, which, if they were not altogether absent from the first, did not specially distinguish it. At the beginning, Dr. Boyd —by an amusing blunder which, however, tells its own story, he was recently spoken of as " Dean Boyd "—is seen recover- ing from a severe illness. As his narrative flows on, we find him losing almost all his intimate friends in succession,— Principals Shairp and Tulloch, and Dean Stanley. We have, too, more frequent glimpses in this volume than in last year's of its author in his character of parish minister. It is not

very easy to conceive of the author of The Recreations as a consoler of the dying and the afflicted. Yet here we have from him a picture which is not unworthy to be placed by the side of Scott's representation of the agony of the Mackle- backits in the Antiquary :- " On February 13, I buried a poor woman in this parish. Scotch folk are very reticent : so it impresses one when they break out. A little before, I had buried her husband. The service in the house over, the coffin was lifted from the poor bed, and carried forth. Then the silent woman started up, and burst forth, My house is empty, and my bed's empty,' and cast herself down as in despair. She must have been near sixty. There was true pathos. I went back next day, and said all I could to comfort. But the poor heart was broken ; and she followed her man ' soon. Just to-day it was said to me,' There's no use my praying ; I'll not get my mother back ; and that's the only thing I care for.' The powerful but pretty young face is before me ; and it will be for long. By God's good mercy, Time will bring some cheer. 'I said that to my sister, and she said I was wicked.' "

This volume is not at all notable for the important events that are recorded in it. Such events, at any rate, like that terrible calamity, the fall of the Tay Bridge, are outside the personal life of the author. His years, as the chief Minister of St. Andrews associated with the Church of Scotland, seem to have glided peacefully on. He appears to have resolutely thwarted all attempts to " transfer " him to other " spheres of usefulness." His explanation of one declinature is frank— almost to flippancy :—

" Once upon a time I was offered a parish which, when in the country, I should have been glad to accept. Circumstances gave it a special interest to me. But I was now at St. Andrews. So when the good deputation' came, I said, I can't cause you an hour's delay : I could not in conscience leave this place for yours. This sphere' is great ; I only wish I were worthier of it.' The deputation regarded not the words at all ; but went on to urge in a kindly way. Whereupon I said my last word. Good friends, the living here is more than twice as large as yours.' Then they appeared to feel reality. They instantly went on to ask if I could suggest any one else."

Towards the close of Dr. Boyd's quarter of a century in St. Andrews, his Church conferred on him the greatest honour that it has in its power to bestow, by electing him Moderator of its General Assembly. He seems to have been very satisfied both with the reception he met with on this occasion and with his own conduct, and especially with the final speech he delivered :- "Some men," we are told, " are fond of saying, after any public appearance, that they did not get on nearly so well as usual; but I have to confess that my good friends, soon to be parted, heard me at my very b " He writes characteristi- cally, too, about the final function, known as the Moderator's Dinner :—" It was a very distinguished and good party. I was particular about invitations. For I remembered, rather

* Twenty-Five Years of St. Andrews: September, 1565, to September, Iwo. By the Author of "The Recreations of a Country Parson." Vol. II. London and New York : Longman, Green, and Co. 1892.

vividly, how sitting down at table on such an occasion beside a very eminent man, he said : I can't imagine why the Fellow asked me. I never spoke to him in my life." The second volume of these Reminiscences, indeed, is chiefly remarkable, so far as Dr. Boyd is concerned, for indicating his increasing attachment to Anglican forms. The ecclesiastical creed to which he adheres at the present time he expounds with absolute candour:—" I attach not the smallest importance to Presbytery. The tie I acknowledge is to the National Establishment. When in England, I belong to the Church of England, and that most heartily."

It is plain that in his first volume the Country Parson introduced us to practically all of his notabilities. We have in the second one glimpse of Carlyle. Dr. Boyd was introduced by Mr. Fronde when Carlyle was eighty-five years of age. He seems to have managed matters very diplomatically :-

" Fronde said,' This is a countryman of yours, who wishes to see you.'—Carlyle shook hands, rather indifferently; and looked at me in silence.—I said,' I know Craigenputtock well ; I have often seen it ; I was once Minister of lrongray.'—Carlyle said,' I know Iron- gray well; a beautiful place. Boyd was once Minister, who is now in St. Andrews ; Boyd that writes:—Fearful of a smashing review, I burst in, am Boyd.'—At once Carlyle, brightened up to the keenest but kindest attention, exclaimed God bless us ! are you Boyd P' took my hand, and held it in a very strong grasp, adding God bless you.' "

Dr. Boyd had many pleasant interviews with the late Canon Liddon, and supplies what is really most remarkable evidence confirmatory of Canon MacColl's story of Turkish impalement. He experimented with the famous double field-glass through which the dead body was seen :-

" I said to Liddon : Show me how far off that pole was.' He indicated a tree close at hand. I turned the glass upon it, and could have seen anything at that distance just as distinctly as I do the paper on which I am writing. Next, to test the beloved man's sight : Tell me the hour on the clock at the Castle.' The Castle was more than a mile off. Liddon told it to the minute And there were two eye-witnesses. Of course the story was true.'; The chief charm of this volume, as of its predecessor, lies in its good stories, which are innumerable. Now that Twenty- five Years of St. Andrews is complete, we can safely say of it that it will, as a treasure-house of such stories, occupy a place second only to that of Dean Ramsay's popular volume, although it is written in a different style, and is constructed on a different plan. It would be unjust to its author to give too many of its plums. Here are some:— " A worthy minister, being invited by Dr. Guthrie to dine with him next day at an Assembly time, replied with what Dr. Guthrie thought undue solemnity, Well, if I am spared ! ' The great orator listened with displeasure, and replied in the most unsym- pathetic manner, and putting the contingency in the most dis- agreeable possible light := Oh, we won't expect you, if you are a corp !' "

Again :—

" A youth had preached in the College Chapel (of Glasgow). After service, the Professors in the beautiful Fore-hall' were discussing the sermon. They were all very complimentary. But Professor Buchanan (the great Professor of Logic, whom, strange to say, Archbishop Tait did not think very clever) broke in Oh don't say that. There was a sad want in our young friend's sermon. He said a great deal about how Jonah felt. I should have liked to hear something about how the whale felt ! "

Here is a Catholic blessing with a vengeance :—

" A youth recently gone over, went down on his knees in a Pro- testant drawing-room, and asked a Cardinal who entered for his blessing. The magnificent old man looked decidedly ruffled, and said, in impatient tones, and without any punctuation,—' God bless you get up Sir,' and passed away."

Finally,— "I remember a most eminent Professor of Divinity at Edin. burgh saying he had gone to a meeting of a Ladies' Missionary Society in that city ; at which an immensely stout and very repel- lent speaker began his address with the sentence,' My dear young ladies, I loafe you very moshe.' The feeling was not reciprocal. And having ended his address, he said in a loud voice, Let us Bray.' The eminent theologian added with emphasis, ' And he did Bray.'"